Dragon Age Origins: Isabela
by Pseudonym McAlias
Summary: My origin story of Isabela NOT FINISHED


**Dragon Age Origins: Isabela**

The streets were littered with the dark-skinned inhabitants scurrying towards their homes to avoid the heavy rain. The colourful houses and taverns now appeared washed out and dirty as mud became churned up around the stone paving and splattered against the walls. Smoke wisps were vaguely visible from the chimneys through the thick drizzle; the sign of people trying, futilely, to keep themselves warm via a fire or hot meal.

Because of the dismal weather it was difficult to tell that it was midday by now, and a few lingered around the markets stalls, shielding their faces from the persistent rain. They sold everything from Ferelden livestock to Antivan silks. Dogs barked and chased their tails, relishing the absence of the usual crowds.

A shout went up but was only met with the odd passing glance and pitying look. A man was restrained by two towering grey figures. He watched desperately as the two boys he'd raised for seven years followed the line of new converts, or viddathari, to the boats that would take them all the way to Kont-aar. The two Qunari shoved the father back one final time and returned slowly to their boats. The man put his head in his hands and remained that way until some sympathetic soul took pity on him and helped him up.

The Rivaini's continued with their lives.

A young girl, maybe eight or nine, sat outside her home, her chin on her hands, half-heartedly counting the oranges on a nearby tree. As usual she was bored. There was little to do for the youth of Rivain. There was a crumpled list in her pocket. Grain. Bread. Elfroot. Fish. Etc. She had no desire to go down to the markets on her own and be patronised by the stall owners. Many of them made her skin crawl.

Her father was no longer around to take her hand-in-hand and pick peaches from the orchards. Her mother was busy. With a customer most likely. She saw her less and less now.

"Naishe!"

The girl looked up. A dark-haired boy bounded towards her, his cheeks flushed from running.

"Naishe! Naishe! Naishe! You'll never guess what happened!"

She raised her eyebrow, something her mother often did. "What happened?"

"Subiro and Kaleb! They've gone! With the giants yesterday!"

She gasped and jumped up, "But they said they'd never go! They said!"

The boy nodded solemnly as though the two boys had committed some terrible felony by going against their word. "Their father tried to stop them going. Now the whole market is practically empty."

Naishe's mother had told her stories of the 'grey giants'. She said they ate their young and enslaved humans, elves and dwarves alike. Naishe hadn't ever questioned her mothers sources of information and never went near the giants now, not that she had been particularly fond of them before.

"Naishe!"

"I-sorry what?"

"I was saying...since the market is basically empty..."

She shook her head, "I can't Dario. My mother shouted at me last time we went. I had to stay at home all week."

Dario rolled his eyes, "That's because you _always _get caught. You're too slow."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

He grinned. "Prove it then."

"Fine I will!" She immediately turned and stomped off towards Llomerryn market, Dario tailing in her wake.

They approached a trinkets stall slowly, not wishing to draw attention to themselves. Only a plump old woman browsed the items on display, much to the joy of the sharp-eyed merchant.

Dario prodded Naishe forward while she waited for her moment. The woman bent forward over the stall, pointing to a particularly fine silver pendant and Naishe, concealed somewhat by the lady's sizeable bosom, grabbed a wooden statuette. She hid it beneath her clothes and sidled away from the stall, trying to look innocent, something she found increasingly difficult as the years wore on.

As she returned to Dario, who'd retreated behind a wall, a mischievous grin crossed her face as she presented the carving proudly. "Told you so!"

Dario look excitedly down at item.

"I don't know what it's meant to be th-"

"It's a dragon! I saw once once. It flew right over my head."

"No it didn't," Naishe cried indignantly "you're making that up."

"If I'm making it up how do I know what sound it made?" He promptly extended his arms to resemble wings and made a roar to the great amusement of Naishe.

She was making her way back home, dragon (she had won the right to keep it in a game of hide-and-seek) in hand, when she caught sight of her mother. Immediately she clamped both hands behind her back.

"Where have you been? You were meant to be getting groceries."

She shrugged as nonchalantly as she was able, "I..forgot."

"You're lying. I saw you put the list in your pocket." She narrowed her eyes at her daughters posture. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

Her mother sighed exasperatedly. "Don't play games with me. In your hand. Show me."

Naishe inwardly cursed her luck. She'd never been a good liar. Reluctantly, she held up the dragon.

"Did you buy this?"

"..."

"Is this another gift from Darius?"

"Dario."

"Is it?"

Her daughter's expression was answer enough. "Damn it Naishe. How many times have I said this? You _never _lie and you _never _steal. Is that clear?"

"..."

"Is that clear?"

Naishe nodded, still watching the ground. Her mother span her around and frog-marched her back to the stall, all the while glancing, almost apologetically, at the people, elves and Qunari they passed.

Seven years later.

A lot had changed in seven years; the markets of Llomerryn, which had once been vast and sported a wide range of goods, now sold only necessities and trinkets and weaponry too expensive for most to buy. Qunari, although far more sparsely scattered in southern Rivain, could be spotted everyday hearding viddithari away. They were not forceful; they allowed anyone, regardless of sex, age or race to join their ranks provided they followed the strict rules of the Qun. The odd Tal-Vashoth would wind up begging on a street corner. Many, particularly foreigners who were not used to their presence, found their intimidating physique reason enough to despise or fear the horned race like wildfire. Rivaini hedge witches (or "seers") often told mistaken tales of the Saarebas' rituals for new converts. Any who were brave enough to ask the Qunari directly of the authenticity of these claims were met with stern growls.

Naishe, now sixteen and living, much to her displeasure, in Dairsmuid, leaned against a wall, bored once more. Her mother was taking longer than usual. Although she had been through countless explanations, Naishe still didn't understand why so many women desired her mother's services. Usually she gave them a talisman and sent them on their way.

Little had changed about the girl except now her ears wore gold studs and her nine-year-old body now rivalled her mother's curvy physique.

The thick white dust covering the walls had stained the dark grey tunic she wore, to the confusion of many locals since the traditional dress was white. She'd have to change when she was permitted inside.

A few minutes passed and a tumbleweed could have made the scene more exciting. Nothing moved. The gulls cries had vanished. She breathed in the air. Salty. Spicy. And rich. The sea, which had been calm for nearly the entire autumn season, was unsettled. The blinding sun now approached by greying clouds.

Finally, a heavily bejewelled woman in a red headscarf covering most of her face and a pale-faced elf girl exited the small building. The elf muttered something in a tongue Naishe did not recognise to Naishe's mother and plodded after her mistress. Naishe was surprised. Mother didn't usually get customers of such high status.

She stepped through the shadowy doorway, "Who was that?"

Her mother shook her head wearily, "It doesn't matter."

Naishe rolled her eyes. She never told her anything these days. "What did the elf say?"

"I am going out for a while Naishe."

"It wasn't Antivan..."

The older woman sighed. "Did you hear what I said?"

Her daughter eyed her impatiently.

"The elf was Ferelden."

Naishe sat at a small circular table, "So the King's tongue then." Most people in Rivain knew some of the language; Naishe having come from a reasonably well-off family and a passion for travel had learnt as much of it as anyone would teach her. Luckily a Marcher dwarf had recently come to Rivain and talked to her often.

"Why are you so interested?"

She shrugged, "I want to go there one day. And t-"

"Not this again."

"Mother I just w-"

"Enough."

Naishe fell silent. She'd been at the end of her mother's anger once too often.

"I'm going out. I won't be back for some time."

Naishe watched her leave then opened a cupboard where there were the leftovers of a boiled hog goulash. She ate with her fingers, something else mother hated.

The next day was a cold one. The wind was bitterly cold now. Despite the weather, Naishe walked the streets alone. Her mother still hadn't returned and she knew when she did she'd either go straight to bed or have another customer to take care of.

Naishe planned on waking Dario or Val. They often wondered around the city. Sometimes leaving small traps for the Qunari or stealing food.

She reached the shack that Dario now lived in. His family were poor and had stayed behind in Llomerryn. His motives for coming to Dairsmuid were still unknown to her. She'd had to walk to the lower district to get there.

She peeked through the window and whispered his name. No response. "Dario?"

Nothing.

"Where have you gotten to this time?" She wasn't worried. He sometimes waited for her in the main square. She headed there now. It was an odd meeting place. The main square was merely a large, empty, open expanse of cobbled stone with an ominous set of gallows in the centre. So far, they had only been used twice while Naishe had been there. Both times had been for murderers. Rivain had arguably one of the most relaxed and corruptible law systems, the East side of Thedas. With the overruling religion being pantheism, and the Circle of Dairsmuid having been annulled, no natives cared much for blasphemy. From the long history of wars and rebellions, all Tevinter magisters who visited were usually treated with disdain.

She heard a scuffle. "Get your hands off me!"

Peeking out from behind the crates she was hiding behind, Naishe spotted two Qunari dragging a familiar boy into the square, but not towards the gallows.

"We do not permit stealing, basra." The two Qunari exchanged words that none of the gathering crowd understood. Qunlat was known only by those who'd gone north. Naishe straightened up and joined the crowd.

"This dathrasi does not care for the city people or the Qun; only for his own indulgence." The karasaad of the two spoke to the people.

Someone amongst the crowd shouted "He's just a boy!"

"Age is irrelevent. He stole from the Qunari and he will be punished by the Qunari."

Many of the growing crowd cursed the aforementioned Qunari. Some even began throwing stones, but to little effect. Though they were many in number, none of the crowd dared approach Dario's captors, particularly when one revealed a inkvine handled axe and a chopping block.

"Parshaara!"

Dario's face was now sallow as he eyed the axe. Naishe turned away as they forced his arm onto the block.

She was pushing through the crowd and running through a back alley as a familiar swish and thud of an axe hitting its target. Dario cried out, as did the swelling crowd.

The Qunari were soon gone, leaving the Rivainis to tend to Dario.

Naishe was panting. She couldn't bare to go back to the main square. Pretending to browse the bazaar was harder than she'd hoped. The only thing she could think about was the swish and thud of the axe. Dario's scream.

"Do you want anything?"

"What? Oh...er no thank you." She turned to leave and immediately walked straight into a rather large bearded man. His hair was greasy and his hand looked rough and gnarled. "I'm so sorry...I didn't see you."

He seemed vaguely amused, "That's quite alright Miss..."

She didn't respond. She was already hurrying away.

"No! Absolutely not! How can you even ask that!?"

Six months had passed and everything seemed to be going downhill. The town had since recovered from Dario's punishment and now, theft was as common as a dragon walking into port.

Naishe stood in the hallway, her mother in the exit of their home.

"Their is clarity in the Qun. I was also confused until I found it."

"I'm not confused! And since when have you been interested in what those horn-heads have to say!? They're as good as slavers!"

Naishe's mother raised her hand suddenly, surely to strike. "Do not speak so easily of what you do not understand, Naishe. You will do this."

She crossed her arms, "Over my dead body."

Her mother opened her mouth to respond, but seemed to think better of it. Instead she turned and left the house without another word.

This continued for many weeks. Her mother would request Naishe accompany her to Qunari gatherings and Naishe would refuse. Each time the word 'viddathari' cropped up in their arguments, Naishe would push past her mother and find some alley to stay in until she was sure she had left.

There were fewer and fewer customers that came by, and both mother and daughter spent less and less time at home.

One cold winter morning, after a particularly vicious argument, Naishe was sitting in the harbour, dangling her bare feet in the water and watching the sea. It was one of her favourite past times. She'd left the house in such a hurry that she hadn't thought to wrap up warmer. All she wore was a simple white dress.

"Looks like your mother's on the warpath." A friendly Orlesian spoke in broken Rivaini, gutting some fish nearby.

She looked up and turned to see that, sure enough, her mother was approaching, followed swiftly by a bulky and clearly wealthy man, and what looked like his two, heavily tattooed, bodyguards.

"Ahh...So this is the girl..."

"Mother...who..?"

The man laughed. It was an unpleasant sound. A deep cackle. "My dear, I must have made such a fleeting impression. Do you not remember me?"

Naishe stood slowly. The man in the bazaar. The one she'd bumped into. She hadn't given him a second thought until now.

"I...what-?"

"This is Sir..." Her mother looked at him.

"Luis please serah. I don't like to use silly titles." His voice was unctuous and exotic. His tanned skin also told her he was Antivan. Now he was here Naishe got a better look at him. He had thick black hair and a beard and moustache to match. His eyes were unkind and steel grey. Beneath a black cloak he wore dark green clothes and black leggings, although these were difficult to see under the shining armour. His boots too, which were leather, a rare sight in Rivain,, were polished so Naishe could see her confused expression in the reflection. He also had a silver dagger in his belt. The shorter man behind him rolled his eyes. Clearly Luis was lying through his yellow teeth.

"Naishe...Why-?"

"I'm here following up a...business arrangement I have between your mother."

Her mother, looked at him expectantly. "Forty sovereigns I believe."

He smiled widely, baring his teeth once more. "Yes. Forty. A fine price for such a lovely girl."

"What?"

Naishe's mother looked at her as though she ought to know perfectly well what was going on. "Naishe don't argue. This is all I can do for you now."

"All you can do!? You're selling me to a stranger! I'm not a slave!"

"My dear," He placed a hand possessively on her shoulder, "This is not slavery. It is in my interests to marry a fine girl such as yourself."

Naishe stayed wide eyed between Luis and her mother. "I'd have preferred bloody slavery. Mother you can't allow this."

"It is done my dear."

She slapped away his hand, "Don't call me that! I'm not marrying you!" Her fearsome demeanour faulted as her voice cracked, her eyes becoming redder and redder.

"I have a wonderful house in Antiva to rival Queen Asha Campana herself, Naishe. You will be very happy there." Already he was gesturing to a magnificent boat. No, a ship.

"I don't care I'm not going!" She couldn't back away since the only thing behind her was the ocean. Maybe she could swim away?

As though he'd read her thoughts Luis said "Don't be foolish m-Naishe. This has already been decided. Your mother has brought your belongings."

Naishe looked at a pitifully small crate with a few clothes and an encyclopedia of Southern Thedas she'd received on her twelfth nameday. She realised she wouldn't get a chance to see Dario again. She had been guiltily avoiding him since the incident; always making excuses why she couldn't see him. She'd miss Val, a merchants daughter and Clara, a Ferelden weapon-smith as well. How had it come to this so abruptly? Had her mother been planning this from the beginning, or was it just because she'd refused to convert? Damn her.

Naishe knew her mother didn't want her any more. And she didn't want to be around her any more. What choice did she have?

"Fine. I'll go." She scowled into her mother's eyes.

"Excellent!" Luis handed over a pouch of the payment. Clearly he'd expected problems.

As they turned towards the ship, and by the Maker it was a beautiful ship, Naishe spat at the ground by her mothers feet and left.

Waiting on the deck with his arms outstretched was a similarly dressed man, except for a glittering sword which made Naishe more nervous.

"This must be the girl, yes?" the man's Rivaini was marginally better than Naishe's future husband's.

Luis slapped him on the back, "Claudio, this is Naishe. Naishe, this is Prince Claudio Valisti, a business partner of mine."

"The pleasure is mine entirely." He bent his head and kissed her reluctant hand. "I hope we can become good friends, Naishe."

His lying wasn't any more sincere than Luis'.

"I do hope you have a pleasant journey across the Bay."#

Naishe smiled as best she could, silently hoping the ship would never make it. "Where exactly do you live?"

Luis' booming laugh filled the air, "No need to be so timid my dear. I recently moved from Rialto to Antiva City. My business required it and is a far nicer place to live."

Naishe couldn't help herself, "Business?"

"All in good time my dear. I think we're nearly ready to set sail."

Up until now Naishe had assumed Luis to be some wealthy merchant or aristocrat. She frowned. Claudio shouted orders at the sailors while Luis walked Naishe to the bow of the ship.

"Have you ever visited Antiva?"

She shook her head.

"It is a beautiful land. Much like Rivain in fact. You will feel right at home."

Naishe doubted his words very much.

The journey was both exhilarating and mortifying for Naishe. She realised almost immediately that she loved sailing. Although she didn't sail the ship, or rather _The Siren's Call_, in any shape or form just being on deck...There was no feeling like it. In the short time it took to cross Rialto Bay, Naishe forgot all about her oncoming predicament. The crash of the waves and the whistle of the wind was invigorating. Luis had given her a cloak of sorts since she was dressed "inappropriately for this bitter weather." She didn't care about the cold whilst they were sailing. She didn't care about anything. Only when they reached port a few hours later did it all come crashing back.

Once they had docked, Luis, Naishe, Claudio and some of the sailors, who'd turned out to be servants, climbed what felt like miles of cold, stone steps. Up and up they went. Being so high in status, Luis' abode was surely at the top. As they climbed Naishe saw that the city was split into layers. The bottom ridge was where the harbour and sailors were. Some were fisherman, hauling their catches out of their boats. The second ridge revealed a labyrinth of paths and roads. This appeared to be where the bulk of inhabitants lived since it was filled with houses and shops and bustling crowds. Higher still there were fewer houses, and roads that lead off to farms and grassland. Finally, at the top, there were a small selection of beautiful houses and estates. These were by far the largest living quarters, belonging to Antivan nobles, Naishe assumed.

"Welcome to your new home, Naishe."

She looked up. Facing her was a huge white estate with a brick-red tiled roof and trees and flowers and shrubs everywhere the eye could see. Naishe saw three solemn-looking horses munching on hay and even a nug cage. Luis had peculiar taste. At the entrance stood a woman in blue with faint black tattoos running up her arms waiting for them.

"Ah Clarisa. Meet the new lady of the house, Naishe."

Naishe was not used to courtesying.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance madam. I'm Clarisa. I'll be your head servant. If you need anything you need only ask." She said this in a fairly monotonous tone as though she was used to saying it often. Naishe wondered how many times Luis had introduced a new "lady of the house".

Luis ushered her quickly past the disheartened servants who greeted her at the door and lead her straight upstairs. There was a long corridor with scarlet silks and emerald rugs everywhere.

Naishe had already lost count of the number of doors on this landing alone. Each one carved with care and precision and varnished until they gleamed.

The walls too were certainly not neglected. Swords and daggers and oil paintings hung everywhere. The ceiling cradled glittering chandeliers which shone in the sunlight filling the corridor.

She could feel the soft wind on her face and admired the first floor, but was left with a bitter feeling. Of course he was buying her off. All this luxury. Compared to where she'd grown up this was a palace. But it wasn't worth Luis. She knew that already. It was uncomfortable to feel his thick, cold hands against her hip. His breath too was no blessing. A mixture of alcohol, fish and cheese greeted her nostrils. He had a habit of standing too close.

A scantily clad servant boy opened the door to a large master bedroom. At the other end another set of doors opened out to a white balcony overlooking the sea. There was a shaggy rug of animal fur in the centre of the room and mahogany tables and chests and wardrobes in every corner of the pentagonal room. To the right there was a queen-size, four-poster bed with white sheets. On it lay an immodest, pale green dress. Beside the bed were two more tables, one with a candle, the other piled high with cloths in colours ranging from mustard yellow to charcoal grey. There use was as yet unknown to Naishe.

"This will be your room. I do hope it is respectable." He wasn't looking at her. Instead he admired the room. His words held little sincerity. No doubt he assumed Naishe was awestruck by his estate, which was not completely untrue.

"It's very..-"

"Good! Now Clarisa. Get her cleaned up for dinner. We wouldn't want her stinking up the place now would we?"

Naishe didn't understand Antivan, but she guessed from Clarisa's expression that it wasn't a compliment.

Clarisa lead her to a small room with nothing more than a copper with a single tap. Besides that there was only a stack of large white cloths for drying yourself and a basin. Clearly Luis didn't put cleanliness at the top of his priorities.

Without a word, Clarisa pulled at the neck of Naishe's dress. Instinctively she batted her hand away. The young maid didn't say anything, only reached again for the dress. Glancing at the bath, Naishe allowed her to remove the dress, crossing her arms strategically as she did so. Clarisa didn't take much notice. She'd seen women come and go, usually in a worse state than when they arrived. She would have quit already except Luis had a habit of talking his way around it. Or blackmail.

"The water will take a few minutes to warm up." And with that, she left, leaving Naishe stood naked in the middle of an alien room in an alien country.

The dress was a mistake. The pale green clashed horribly with Naishe's dark skin and the silver lace along a slit up the leg did not improve matters. The neck plunged low leaving little to the imagination. Was she really expected to eat dinner in this? Naishe sighed. Hopefully this was just a minor setback.

"Naishe, you look wonderful." Claudio smiled to her then to Luis and took his place in a chair on the right-hand side of the table. Luis sat at the head.

"Sit, Naishe."

She obeyed Luis' command, sitting to the left opposite Claudio. Moments later food was brought through on platters.

The food was good. Very over-seasoned as many Antivan dishes were but good. There was a pork belly roasted in honey and syrups which was still sticky to the touch and salads of vegetables Naishe didn't recognise. Apparently Luis didn't believe in starters. A clay pot of a strange red goo was passed around. It was spicy and bitter to swallow. An acquired taste perhaps. Hot brown rolls which burnt her fingers and tart red wine. Naishe didn't take to the wine either. Luis and Claudio on the other hand were knocking it back and refilling their cups.

Naishe had never eating messily in front of others and she did so as daintily as possible. She needn't have worried however. The men shoved forkfuls of pork, salad and bread into their mouths greedily.

Everything was decided for Naishe. If she had anything to say about something Luis would nod and continue with his own plans. It wasn't as though she'd been lead to expect anything else in the short time she'd known him but she would have thought that a wedding service took longer to organise than a letter to the chantry. Throughout the first week of her stay people came and went, most of them business colleagues of Luis. One group came fully armed as though they expected a fight to break out at any minute. There was the superior man who spoke only to Luis; all the rest were elves who lounged in chairs twirling their daggers, and looking greedily at Luis' many many possessions.

The wedding service itself, if you could call it that was Naishe, Luis, an elderly chantry priest and Claudio to bear witness in the courtyard of Luis' home. Only a week after meeting him, and Naishe didn't feel any closer to her husband. She had to hand it to him though, he new how to throw a good party. Although Luis didn't believe in romantic weddings, he did believe in a good reception.

By the evening the estate was filled with people, none of whom Naishe knew. There were men, women, elves and two dwarfs who'd somehow stumbled into the wrong mansion. The servants, all of whom Naishe now noticed were female, were dressed rather scantily in black and white...dresses was the best word. Naishe was still wearing the knee-length mustard yellow dress she'd worn to the service, to Luis' delight. She swore the next chance she got, she'd burn the accursed thing. Many of the guests wore armour. Some of them with a black winged insignia over the left shoulder. The women not in armour wore frocks of every colour of the rainbow, each as tasteless as the next.

The house itself was abundant in wine and ale, although this wasn't unusual in any case. Before long guests were mingling, dancing or vomiting; the dwarves again. Luis kept his arm around Naishe's hip for most of the evening, introducing her to someone and then moving on. Eventually she extracted herself and stood alone by the wall with a glass of wine.

No one came by except a vaguely familiar elf, probably one who visited earlier in the week, who'd had wine spilt on him by one the more 'jolly' women. "No one can ever hold their drink at these things..."

Naishe merely nodded at the elf and continued to watch the party.

"Where are my manners?" The elf bowed low speaking in the Kings Tongue, "I am Zevran Arainai. And you must be the girl my colleague speaks so highly of. I can see why..."

Naishe tore her eyes away from a passed out dwarf to look at the elf's formal introduction. It seemed it had been practised many times until perfected. "Naishe...Are you meant to be the minstrel Luis mentioned?"

Zevran let out an exuberant laugh at that; "You do flatter me my dear, but alas no."

"Just another of his 'business colleagues' I assume?"

He merely smiled widely.

She wasn't sure she liked this elf. He was _very _self-assured. "What was it you said you did again?"

"I didn't."

Zevran's chuckles subsided as he saw her genuinely puzzled expression. "L-Your husband...has told you what he does, hasn't he?"

Naished watched him blankly.

He muttered something under his breath; "Well...where to start?"

Naishe waited impatiently, "The beginning, preferably."

"Very well, what do you know of the Antivan Crows?"

She smirked a little at the name.

"Ah. We are assassins. The best assassins in all of Thedas."

"Forgive me if I don't immediately take your word for it."

Zevran smiled, "Oh come now. Do you have any reason not to believe me?"

"You're telling me my husbands the head of a group of murderers called the Antivan pigeons?"

He grinned again. "No. And it's Crows. He plays a minor role in our organisation. A business partner at most."

"..."

"It's true! Why do you think I have these?" he gestured to the tattoos running up his face.

"Because you're vain, lewd and you think it draws attention to your best assets?"

"That too."

Naishe was already edging away, "Well nice to meet you Zevran. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"May I not even have the pleasure of a dance? It is a party after all."

"Oh I think that would be really pushing it, don't you?"

He watched as she disappeared into the crowd.

That night, as instructed, Naishe waited in Luis' bedroom, pacing nervously. The more she worried about it, the more inviting her own room seemed. She was only seventeen now, her birthday having past unnoticed. Luis was at least thirty years older. Naishe dug her nails into her palms, eventually producing blood.

The Rivaini was walking to the door when he entered.


End file.
